


Damian Builds his first Snowperson*

by truc



Series: What are friends for? [8]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU, DCU (Comics), Justice League - All Media Types, Superman - All Media Types
Genre: And Enemies?, Bruce can't cook, Building snowpeople, Cooking competition!, Family, Gen, Humour, Real friends don't let friends murder people, Revenge, because snowmen is a sexist term that Jason doesn't approve, fluff!, friends being friends, that's his secret weapon!, we don't even see them build snowpeople
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-14
Updated: 2020-04-14
Packaged: 2021-03-01 20:40:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 993
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23653225
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/truc/pseuds/truc
Summary: Clark may or may not have interfered in Bruce's plan to poison Ollie.***"Uh, Bruce?""Yes.""What is that?!?""Eggs."Brief respite."...Exotic eggs?"Bruce blinks at him. "What kind of farmer's son can't recognize chicken eggs?""Chicken eggs in Smallville aren't gray and splotchy. Why are there purple, orange and black bits in it?" Clark asks the question in a high-pitched tone."Apparently, fire hasn't been invented there yet. I didn't realize they were that far behind civilization.""If those... 'things' equate civilized, I think I rather eat raw meat in my hut, thank you very much."
Relationships: Bruce Wayne & Clark Kent
Series: What are friends for? [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1105563
Comments: 2
Kudos: 113





	Damian Builds his first Snowperson*

"Uh, Bruce?"

"Yes."

"What is that?!?"

"Eggs."

Brief respite.

"...Exotic eggs?"

Bruce blinks at him. "What kind of farmer's son can't recognize chicken eggs?"

"Chicken eggs in Smallville aren't gray and splotchy. Why are there purple, orange and black bits in it?" Clark asks the question in a high-pitched tone.

"Apparently, fire hasn't been invented there yet. I didn't realize they were _that_ far behind civilization."

"If those... 'things' equate civilized, I think I rather eat raw meat in my hut, thank you very much."

Tim enters the room. "Are you finally conducting your animal repellent spray experiment? You were supposed to let me work with you."

Bruce rolls his eyes and brings his heaped plate up. "I cooked eggs."

Tim scrunches his nose in disgust. "I'll let the others know to keep well away from the fallout zone. Superman, I count on you to keep the threat contained."

"Aye Aye," Clark responds with mock seriousness as Tim escapes the room. He turns back to his friend. "Why are you cooking? I thought Alfred forbid you from touching food other than to eat."

Bruce smirks evilly. "I got his permission to defend my honour."

Clark glances at the mess in the kitchen, the botches pile of seemingly simultaneously undercooked and overcooked eggs with decorative, festive colour Clark couldn't identify. The room, the food, they were all a disaster. _What honour?_

Bruce rolls his eyes. "Ollie dared me to eat his chilli. I dared him to eat my eggs. The one that survives the attempt wins."

Clark sends a mental goodbye to Ollie, instantly trying to find the adequate words to say at his funeral.

_He was foolish- brave, I mean,- to surmount a task of the highest difficulty level. His stupidity- bravery- shall not be soon forgotten. We certainly learned from his example: NEVER EAT FOOD PREPARED BY BRUCE!_

At worse, Bruce would spend a week recuperating from the chilli, his kids mocking him all week.

"Why was Ollie foolish enough to dare you?"

Bruce smirks evilly. "He spent all week taunting me about his chilli. I waited until Dinah and all his buddies were in the room before proposing the challenge. He couldn't back down without losing face."

"..." Clark gives Bruce his unimpressed look.

Bruce rolls his eyes. "He'll survive. We aren't allowed to use known poisons."

Bruce's food _**is** _poison.

"When is the competition?" _Do I still have time to save Ollie's life?_

"In half an hour."

"Weren't you suppose to do a snowman with Damian today?" Clark lies- learning to lie has been one of the survival skills he learned from the Batfamily.

"Snowperson," Bruce corrects.

"What?"

"Jason advocates for equal representation in the snowperson's industry. According to him, they should be able to identify as a snowman, snowwoman, neither or both. Don't let him catch you pushing an identity on the poor snowperson: he might use Kryptonite."

"Jesus," Clark says, "What's wrong with your family and death threats?"

"Now, you're being unnecessarily dramatic. Kryptonite isn't exactly a death sentence or; you'd be dead a hundred times over."

Clark sighs, unwilling to let it devolve into another discussion about Bruce's apparent relish to discuss Clark's possible deaths. "Anyway, aren't you suppose to show Damian how to do a snowm- snowperson today before the snow melts?"

"I don't think so."

Clark finally had the advantage. "Your son's basic needs are more urgent than your macho ego."

Bruce raises one eyebrow at the idea that building snowpeople were somehow a child's basic need.

Clark uses his (fake)angry face. "He has a right to learn how to build a snowperson! Every kid in northern countries learns it. Do you want the other children to tease him in school for his lack of education? 'What? You can't even build a snowperson? What kind of degenerate are you?'" Clark lets a tear glint in his eyes as he pretends to look ashamed of his loss of control.

"... And you call me a drama queen," Bruce states, unimpressed, fully aware Clark was lying through his teeth.

Time for his last gamble. He takes out his cellphone and sends a short message to all of the Batfamily members except Damian. "Bruce wants to teach Damian how to build a snowperson today. Anyone wants to help?"

The response was immediate. Dick was coming over from Bludhaven; Tim was suiting up; Jason was picking up Stephanie; Barbara was picking up Cassandra; Alfred would be preparing the food needed to give Damian a full snowpeople building experience.

Bruce glares at his phone. Although Clark knew he would pay this trick in spades, he had won the battle; there was no way Bruce could get out of the snowpeople building experience without alienating his whole family.

"You should probably let Ollie know the food competition won't happen today," Clark innocently says. If glares could kill, Bruce's would have killed him thousand times over.

Then, Bruce's entire demeanour changes; now he's smiling. Clark knows it's a horrible sign for him.

"I suppose you'll teach Damian how to build snowpeople," Bruce calmly says.

"I'm sorry, I'm making dinner tonight," Clark immediately knows to stay with a wrathful Bruce for a snow building exercise is not recommended for his health.

"Is that so?" Bruce says as he types something on his phone.

A cc'd text pings on Clark's phone. "Hey Lois, Clark wants to help us build a town of snowpeople as big as our Manor today. Can he rainchecks the dinner preparation today?"

" That looks fun! : O Send me pictures!"

"You and Jon can both come," Bruce types back.

"I've got a deadline, but I'll send Jon your way."

Bruce pats Clark's shoulder. "No need to thank me."

In the shadow of his face, Bruce's smile looks utterly creepy.

Clark was not looking forward to being subjected to Bruce's revenge plan.

_Ollie ought to be very grateful to Clark for saving his life. Or, as pacific as Clark is, he'll strangle him._

**Author's Note:**

> I hope every one of you stays safe in this difficult time. Hopefully, this will cheer you up a bit!


End file.
